If, like me, you are extremely lucky enough to have a wonderful family, how much are you missing them, in this lockdown, on a scale of one to 10? Everything seems to remind me of them and link back to them in some way. Sitcoms, dramas, commercials of families having breakfast together before the dad pops a kiss on a toddler’s head before heading to work.
These weird and wonderful homes are my oxygen. They have shaped me into the messy and loving person I am today. I think of my aunty Amy’s house and my heart could burst. Her kitchen is the heart and soul of all of our lives. A place where we collectively sing, eat, laugh, and cry. A place where I dream one day of taking a partner, and I will proudly show him off to my beaming aunties who will wink at me and say ‘Love him.’ While doing chores and getting pissed in my garden at my own house, I think of these wonderful homes I have in my life...and realise just how lucky I am.
And I’ll thank her. Thank her for a home she has provided for us. Even if the satsumas do have faces drawn on them in biro. I’ll go to my aunty Amy’s and run around and sit in the garden with Snowie, the family dog we’ve had for 13 years, and chat with my uncle Bob, who is also an actor, for hours on end about the industry and how it’s changed through the years, while drinking champagne and snacking on some old Mini Cheddars we found in the pantry. At least we think they’re Mini Cheddars.
EmAtack so sweet xx
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